


sold their lives to a dream

by lady_ragnell



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Character Study, Demonic Possession, Gen, POV character death, Pre-Relationship, Redemption, Resurrection, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-30
Updated: 2018-03-30
Packaged: 2019-04-08 06:08:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14098947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lady_ragnell/pseuds/lady_ragnell
Summary: Haoti Ewhoza is meant to be a paladin, fighting for the good in the world, but he's found himself slowly corrupted by the manipulations of a dragon disguised as a king and by the succubus possessing him. When a group of adventurers breaks him out of prison and he ends up on their journey with them, he spends his time wondering what redemption could look like, and if, in the end, he deserves it.





	sold their lives to a dream

**Author's Note:**

> **WARNINGS** , as the tags suggest, for demonic possession (arguably to the point of mind-control, and definitely with elements of emotional abuse), potential mind-control in the form of a collar, temporary POV character death, and minor violence of the D&D sort
> 
> The tale of an NPC from the Campaign of Five Dragons who 100% deserved better than he got from the DM and who we have merrily claimed in the post-canon and decided to redeem for real. Partly, as you might guess, for shipping reasons. (See the collection for more information on the campaign.)
> 
> Title from "Glitter and Gold" by Barns Courtney.

Haoti Ewhoza is going to die of starvation in a fire giant's forgotten jail, abandoned by his god and with a whisper in his head saying that he could be free so easily, if he just allowed it, if he just asked. _No one is coming_ , says the whisper, the same as it's been saying since he was clapped in irons, _and no one will come. I'm all you have now, and you can use me_.

There isn't much of him left, but there's enough that he keeps saying no.

When people enter the jail at last, four judging by the voices, he's not surprised that the women attached to them go to let the local prisoners out first. He's a little surprised when a face appears at the bars of his cell and the woman facing him is familiar. She sighs at the sight of him and turns to call over her shoulder. “He's over here.” There's the fumble of a key in the lock and she comes in. The druid from the island, he thinks, though she's wearier and warier when than he last saw her. “You're lucky your cousin sent us after you and we owe him a favor, or we'd leave you here to rot.”

_Watch this one_ , says the demon, suddenly alert. _You may need to use me_.

“You're welcome to do it,” he says through his teeth. He doesn't need anyone's kindness or worse, their pity. If he's free, Seath will call him back. He has the means to do it.

“We owe him a favor,” she replies, and it's almost surprising, to meet someone who still cares that much about her word. She doesn't take out her keys and free him, but she does assess him, and eventually she lifts her hand and whispers into it. A berry appears, and he frowns, confused.

Three more women appear in the doorway, none of them smiling. Two he recognizes—the half-orc who made a brave stand on the island and the tiefling sorceress who almost set him aflame when they tried to escape Seath. The third he doesn't: she's a halfling, and old. She must be the last of the party, one Seath smiled over when he mentioned her absence. She was part of some plan, and she looks like someone who's been through one of Seath's plans, tired and scowling. “What are you doing, Valira?” she asks, turning the scowl on the druid with her berry. “We need to talk to him before we free him.”

“I'm not going to free him, but he's starving.”

One berry shouldn't make a difference to his hunger, and feels more like a mockery than anything else, but when she lifts her fingers to his mouth he lets her feed him the berry, and when he swallows it seems to fill his stomach and bring back some warmth and energy. A spell, then, not just a summoning. “I can get out on my own,” he says, mostly from spite and partly from the whisper in the back of his head.

Valira looks at him sharply, and the demon in his head says again, _Watch her_.

“Maybe you can, young one, but you're not going to,” says the halfling, raising a finger and brandishing it at him. “You're going to come peacefully and we're going to get you to Solomon and when you're out of our hair you can do whatever you want.”

He might be able to fight all four of them, with help from the succubus, but he doesn't know his tactical position, he has no weapon, and he's not at full strength, so the succubus might well use all of him up. “I'll come peacefully to Solomon.”

“I don't trust his word,” snaps the tiefling, and once, Haoti might have been offended. Once, though, he had honor, and he didn't have a succubus whispering in his head and a king whispering in his ear. Now, he can't blame her.

“Do whatever you want, but if you're going to argue, do it elsewhere.”

“I'm going to suggest him,” says the tiefling, and the other three exchange looks, the half-orc opening her mouth like she might object, but none of them does it. She meets his eyes. “You're going to come peacefully to Solomon's house, without hurting anyone or trying to.”

Haoti feels the tug of magic, but he still has enough reserves to shrug that order off, and there's the heavy feeling of magic gone wrong before she starts floating off the ground. When she opens her mouth, ready to try again or make another threat, only bubbles come out, gentle and pink, and she blinks, scowls, and starts in on what looks like a lengthy treatise on his morals, his ancestry, and possibly his sexual predilections.

The half-orc, smiling a little, grabs the back of her robe to keep her from floating away and says, perhaps on her behalf, “We owe Solomon a favor, but if you attack us, we might forget that.”

“As I said, I'll come peacefully.”

“Watch him,” says Valira, taking the keys from the halfling and starting on his restraints. “He has a demon, and he has less left than—well, he doesn't have much left.”

Haoti, startled, barely remembers to start rubbing feeling back into his wrists. Demons are hard to spot, but his distrusts her and she's recognized it already. He doesn't like that.

_Be careful, I said_ , says the succubus, irritable. _She has one, but he's a lot hungrier than I_.

The tiefling spouts another angry series of bubbles. Haoti stumbles at sword point into the sunshine, and even when the tiefling gets her voice back and uses it pointedly, he doesn't respond much as they begin to travel. He's free again, but freedom is a joke when he's still in Seath's service, still owes him, as Seath would say, for the power a demon lends. Seath is looking for a calamity ring, or wants one made, and Haoti is still valuable as a messenger, if for no other reason. If he's free now, it's an illusion.

“Don't even think about using it,” Valira whispers, shouldering past him to walk ahead, and he keeps his eyes on the road.

*

“Going with them will be good for you,” says Solomon, gentle and sad, pulling a sword out of a chest to replace the one that nobody offered to find for him when they took him from the jail. “You've done much that you shouldn't, and if anyone finds a way to get rid of what you carry, they can do it.” He shakes his head. “They're tenacious.”

“And the collar?” Haoti asks, hating how strangled his voice sounds, like the unfamiliar weight of metal around his neck is choking him.

Solomon sighs, weary. “They don't trust you, and I don't either. If they order you to do petty things, fulfill their every whim, come back to me and we'll find another way, but is it so bad, to be forbidden to harm them or call upon a demon who will see you dead?”

_We'll find a way_ , says the succubus. _Some women and a collar can't stop me. Not even the demon the druid carries can_.

“So I'm not allowed my own will? I chose everything I did, cousin. Don't forget that.”

Solomon hands him the sword. “There's no danger of that.”

*

_Hello, handsome,_ she once purred into his mind, when he was new to Seath's service and Seath offered help in the tasks he needed them to carry out, killing dragons that he assured them were evil. Back when Haoti had companions, back when he thought he was doing the right thing. Back when he cared about doing it.

 _Oh, handsome,_ she says now, in a mockery of pity. _You don't think that after all this you can go back and serve your god again, do you? You can't think that you'll be forgiven._

Even the word startles him. First, he thought he wouldn't need it. As soon as he realized he might, he knew he'd gone too far to deserve it. For once, her taunting misses its mark. He already knows.

*

The women bring him along on their journey like he's some kind of pet and he allows it. He's too tired to do much else. Seath hasn't found him, and that's an unasked-for blessing, but the succubus is still loud, railing against the constraints of the collar, so Haoti keeps his head down and his sword in his hand while they travel to some kind of underground temple. Valira is jumpy down there, clutching at her staff and turning at small noises, and the others are wary.

When they hear a scream, just after they find the beast they were searching for, Haoti follows them and finds his old companions standing there over the body of the mermaid who helped them find their way down.

Seath still knows where he is. He wants to call in his debt, wants Haoti at heel again, and the panic screams louder than the succubus in his head while the women spring into action, dispatching his companions with what seems like little effort and calling Valira, who takes her staff and brings the mermaid back to life, determined and intent.

There's more after that, there's a library and a tiger and a dragon, but Haoti's head is a mess of terror and worry, about Seath hounding him across oceans and planes if he gets out of the collar and tries to escape as he wants to do. He should be mourning his former companions, maybe, but he's only scared, and he hates it.

The women, after their research and some huddled conversations they don't let him overhear, keep throwing him looks, mistrustful and hopeful and disbelieving all at once, but Haoti doesn't want to ask what's making them look like that. He's a poorly-trained pet in a collar, and right now, he's fairly sure that it's what he deserves.

*

Seath finds them again at the dragon's castle, and there's nowhere, nowhere, nowhere that's safe.

*

“We need better weapons if we're going to fight him,” says Valira, sitting down next to him on the ship's deck. “There aren't—there were none on the list that we think are meant for you.”

He stares at her. “You don't think I'm going to try to kill Seath. You won't force me into that.” He trusts them that far with the damn collar.

She frowns, perhaps puzzled. “I thought perhaps you might be as angry about the demon he saddled you with as—as I am.” She looks at him sidelong, like she's wondering if he's surprised. “But no, we won't force you to fight. I wish we trusted you. We hate the collar, but—”

“You hate me more.”

“You or the demon. I haven't decided yet. I know what it's like to have one whispering in your ear. They want you angry, and mistrustful of everyone around you, or—or desperate to be useful to your friends, whispering that you can't be any other way.” She swallows. “I didn't ask for this. Did you?”

“Seath offered me power beyond even the power my god could,” he says, careful and hearing how thin it sounds out loud. “I wasn't expecting—I didn't expect that it would come in this form. I would have asked for something else, or nothing at all, if I'd known.”

“Still.” She leans back against the edge of the ship and doesn't mention that it's the first time he's acknowledged that being a paladin means being in service to a god. Right now, he doesn't dare call on his, for fear of what he might find. For fear of the succubus's mockery if he tries to pray earnestly. “I'd hate it if someone assumed they were talking to my demon and not me. So perhaps you'd prefer that we dislike you, not her.”

Haoti finds himself continually startled by these women. By Phi, who offered to spar with him on the ship's deck to keep him in practice and only shrugged when he said no. By Quil, who clearly dislikes him but who will sometimes bring him a meal when he's missed one staring out to sea. By gruff Kithri, who sometimes finds him on deck late at night and silently offers him a drink from her flask, a camaraderie born between those robbed of sleep. But most, it seems, by Valira, who seems to prefer the company of seagulls and fish to that of anyone else but who can still say that.

_She's trying to trick you_ , says the succubus, but for once, there's not even the temptation to believe her.

“Sometimes,” Valira continues, “I'm not sure what's me and what's him. Sometimes I'm up all night worrying that the choice will be taken out of my hands and I'll hurt my friends, or something else that doesn't deserve to be hurt. And now I have nightmares that I'll turn out like you, so cowed by my demon that I can't even be myself anymore. Solomon said you were a good man. I wish I could believe him.”

There's no answer to that. Haoti looks away.

“If you want to talk about it, I would—it might help. Both of us.” When he doesn't respond, she huffs out an impatient breath and stands, brushing dirt off her trousers. “Of course. We're trying, you know? I know it's loud in your head, with someone else there, but I still try for them and for you. You could try too, and maybe we could take the collar off.”

“The collar is saving me,” he admits, gritting it out. “I hate it, but I can't use the demon without hurting myself, so I'm safe from using her unless circumstances are desperate.”

_They're worse than Seath_ , she taunts, _teaching you to love your chains_.

Valira looks at him for a long moment. “We're going to find a way to get rid of mine. Yours is going with him if I can possibly manage it. In the meantime, if you need help, ask for it. From one of us. It doesn't have to be me, but like I said—I know how it feels.”

*

Kithri finds him on the deck that night, and doesn't offer him her flask. Instead, she offers a scowl that worries him now that he's gleaned she's a powerful enough cleric that she was sent to the Abyss and came back hurt but willing to thrive from spite rather than give up.

“We are very busy,” she says, in leading tones.

He's tired enough to let himself be led. “I'm aware.”

“No time for romance,” she adds, and takes a swig while he stares, startled. “She has enough to deal with without worrying about you, young one, so you keep that in mind.”

Haoti wants to tell her he has no idea what she's talking about, but he does, and that's enough danger. Valira, all these women, they want to kill Seath, take him from his throne. All he wants these days is to survive. He's too tired to even begin to atone for what he's done, what he's allowed threats and promises to lead him to do. If he were another man, if there'd never been a summons from a king, he might have tried, but he can't now. Not burdened like this. “I will,” he says, and takes Kithri's flask when she offers it.

*

Haoti trails them to the Orclands and keeps to himself until Phi hears a name that makes her go pale and grim and quietly ask her companions for a favor, tells them she'll go herself if they can't.

They all go, and Haoti doesn't make them order him to do it. He may not be good for much, but he can fight, and when they arrive on a plain with soldiers behind them and soldiers in front of them, fight he does.

Early in the battle, he hears Valira take Kithri aside and warn her that if he's knocked unconscious the demon will take control, and he sets his jaw and fights and hates being a liability. Kithri wastes healing on him that the others need, and Valira and Quil are both knocked unconscious for it, when Quil's tempestuous magic sets them both aflame when Valira had already been in danger of her life.

Haoti barely staggers through the end of the battle, but he stays on his feet, and maybe there's some honor in that. A little. He doesn't thank Kithri, who doesn't much like thanks, but he stays close and watches as Valira and Quil are revived, and he helps them cleanse the battlefield of Phi's bad memories.

If only he could bury his own as easily.

_If they keep picking fights too big for them and you keep blindly following,_ she says, _I'll win eventually, collar or no collar. All I have to be is patient._

Quil calls him “Yahootie” half-fondly and half in mockery on their way back to the ship, and Haoti knows the succubus is right. They don't tell him to fight, and won't force him if he says no to their questions, but he has no other purpose, and he begins to think these women might just be able to do what they've set out to do.

All he can hope is that if he falls and the succubus rises, she won't hurt them.

*

They're camped outside the treants' forest to bring them news that goblins won't be bothering them anymore when Valira finds him again. This time, her companions are watching them warily from just outside hearing distance, and she casts a look over her shoulder before she sits down.

“We should have talked to you about this weeks ago,” she begins, and he fights not to tense up. “I wanted to, but we don't know how to say it, and I'm only starting to trust that you might even consider it.”

Haoti isn't sure if he likes that they trust him to act well. He's not sure he can live up to any promises. “Whatever it is, say it.”

“You know that we're trying to save our friend Arfil.” She takes a breath. “And you may know—what he is.”

They're fools who speak openly and often among themselves of just what is hiding in an old wizard's body, and Haoti knows. Paladine isn't the god he's vowed himself to, but he's the god of all paladins, and years ago Haoti would have been trying to save him as well. Now he thinks about the details about Lloth Seath has dropped and shudders. “I know, yes.”

“We've asked how to save him. And we got an answer. We need someone to replace him there in the Abyss, a noble soul.” She's awkward, now, twisting her hands in front of her. “And Yondalla says it's you. You're not particularly noble, as far as we've seen, but maybe there's something in you, something that could help. Something that could save him. And it's a horrible thing to ask, but I have to ask it, Ewhoza.” Not even a mocking “Yahootie” to soften that blow.

_There it is_ , purrs the succubus. _All that kindness was false after all, a ruse to lead you to a foolish sacrifice._

“I can't,” he says, too abrupt. “You expect me to sacrifice my life? I'm not that good a man. My life may be a poor one, but I want to live it.”

“He's hurting badly, and you're the only hope we have, but we'll … we'll find another solution. I know we can't ask this of you, not fairly. And we would never order it. We just … hoped.”

“Because I need to atone,” he says, ignoring the succubus and her whispers. “So you thought forfeiting my life might be fair.”

“No. Not fair. None of this is fair. If this were fair, we wouldn't be fighting this fight at all, and Arfil wouldn't be—” She brushes impatiently at her face and doesn't continue.

Haoti lets the silence stretch and pull. “I can kill him,” he offers, and hopes she knows it's kindly meant, as kindly as he can mean anything now. “An arrow, or a knife, and he'll be past worries and Paladine will be free.”

“I know.” Valira swallows. “I know. I've thought about it. But if it comes to that, one of us will do it. Me or Phi, probably. The others won't sacrifice him no matter what, and I can't blame them, but I still want to be prepared.”

He raises his eyebrows, half impressed and half sorry. “You'd do that?”

“If it meant the end of his suffering when all other avenues have been exhausted? Yes. There's plenty of blood on my hands. What's a little more, spilled in the cause of mercy? Either way, I'm past hope of redemption.”

“You?” he asks, the word startled out of him. This is Valira, who sometimes stiffens and shuts her eyes, someone spilling poison into her head, and then bravely says it, whatever horrible thing her demon is trying to make her believe, and takes comfort from her friends. These women are all kind enough to shame him, and Valira has tried to build a bridge between them instead of shunning him. There's grace in that. Demon or no, Haoti doesn't think she has to worry about her soul.

“So some would say.”

“I wouldn't,” he says, and shocks himself with his vehemence. “Any of you would be a worthier sacrifice than me.”

“If I thought it would work, I wouldn't hesitate,” she snaps, and stands up. “Thank you for listening. I knew you weren't likely to say yes, but like I said, I had to ask.”

_Here you are fluttering over this girl, but always remember that she would see you tortured if it meant her true friend, the one she cares about, was safe._

“We would have tried to save you too,” she says quietly, standing over him. “I don't know how we would have done it, but we would have tried.”

“Valira,” Phi calls, “I'm hearing rustling. I think the treants are ready to talk to you.”

Valira doesn't look at him again before she walks away, and Haoti only watches for a moment before he catches Kithri's eye. She's frowning, and she shakes her head, but he just looks away.

*

None of them, to their credit, ask him again. They all watch him closely, but they don't treat him any better or worse than before. Still, Haoti wonders if their patience will run out and they'll tell Solomon that he's too preoccupied with his own worries to redeem himself. He doesn't know what Solomon will ask of him if they won't keep him, but he doesn't know what they might want of him besides his suffering in Paladine's name either.

They don't consult him on what routes to take, what actions to make, so he finds himself surprised when they leave Erelest for Solomon's home, to ask him for scrolls.

Maybe it's tact and maybe it's chance that make him the last one out of Solomon's home when they go to travel up to visit a dragon who Haoti was once meant to kill. “I don't think I've redeemed myself yet,” he admits. “I don't know if I can, and I don't think they trust me to.” Even if they'd ask for his sacrifice.

_You took the power you were offered. You think that requires redemption?_ Of course he does. More and more, the longer he's with these new companions, her taunts miss their mark, her temptations slide off of him. He doesn't know what that means, but somewhere, dimly, he's hopeful.

Solomon puts his hand on Haoti's shoulder. “Maybe you need to heal before you can begin to redeem yourself. But still, they're the best people you could be with. Let yourself trust them, and maybe they'll trust you.”

He doesn't ask if Solomon knew what they would ask of him. He doesn't think they knew what use he might be when Solomon first told him to go with them. “They shouldn't trust me. Seath could still find me at any moment, or I could lose control over this demon.” He shakes his head, suddenly angry. Why shouldn't Solomon know what he forced his family into? “They only want me to be a good man because it means I would make a worthy sacrifice.”

“I think you underestimate them.” Solomon squeezes and drops his hand at last. “And perhaps yourself. Go as far in this quest as you can, Haoti, and when you can't go further, come here and rest.”

*

Rest sounds more tempting than any of the succubus's whispered promises, but she takes his moment of anger as an opportunity and suddenly she's never silent, never a moment's peace, telling him that he's nothing more than a sheep to the slaughter for these women (Valira speaks frequently of monstrous sheep from the Underdark who she made a promise of freedom to and how she regrets breaking her vow, he tries to argue, and is surprised that after so long he can begin to argue), that even if he did what they want he's nothing like worthy enough to take the place of a god.

His attention is divided, and he dearly needs it on his treacherous way up the mountain. Where there isn't ice, there are monsters, and Haoti keeps his sword out and his scant energy reserved for fighting whatever comes out of the rocks for them next. He's trapped on the wrong side of a dome of ice from a battle and can't break through, is woken in the night by shield guardians and can barely walk a step without finding something new and terrible to fight.

At the top of the mountain, there's a small village with mammoths roaming around it, and while he braces for one to try to gore him, Valira calls out a glad greeting and runs to throw her arms around the trunk of the nearest. The women he travels with have allies in the strangest of places.

Their time in the village is brief, but everyone is friendly enough once he and Kithri are introduced, and Haoti takes the variety in company as a reprieve, talking to one of the village elders and trying not to pay attention to one of the mammoth riders flirting with Valira.

_As though she'd want you anyway_ , says the succubus, but even she seems lethargic with the warmth around the fire, a refuge from the cold.

“Don't even think about it,” Kithri calls across the room when the man starts laughing too hard at something Valira said, and it's a strange kind of comfort, that she said the same to a good man and a bad one.

*

They speak to a dragon, and Haoti can drag himself out of his own head enough to be amazed that there's something like a plan for defeating Seath, if not Lloth. He doesn't dare speak to the dragon, for fear of blurting out that he was meant to kill him, but there's a certain awe in hearing the huge voice and the women conversing with it like it's an old friend.

They deserve a better, braver companion to help them with this plan, but he can't sacrifice himself, so for now, he's what they have.

Haoti can't promise even himself that he'll do better, make a better effort to help, but he's beginning to think it's a promise he wants to make.

*

They're barely steps down the mountain before Haoti feels the sick, lurching wrongness that comes with the presence of a demon in its natural form. Valira feels it too, and she looks wildly around a second before a balor appears before them.

Seath sent it, Seath with his endless demon tomes and alliance with the goddess of chaos, Seath who's been playing with Haoti this whole time like he's a kite on a line. Haoti draws his sword.

The spells fly hard and fast, and the balor calls demons, who call demons—they shouldn't be able to, summoned demons can't do that, but of course Seath has a way around that too. Haoti fights without thought, misses more blows than he lands and takes more blows than he can afford.

“Keep him upright, Kithri,” Valira is shouting as the battle comes to a close and he feels himself swaying. “Keep him upright, don't let him die—Yahootie, you listen to me, I order you to stay conscious if you possibly can—”

He lets himself pretend the words are more kind and worried than practical. There's blood in his eyes, but he can still see the balor die, can still feel the succubus laughing, because she knows, like he does, that even the collar can't make him do something impossible. He's taken too many wounds to live, and the last wretched piece of his soul is hers by right now, and Haoti—

_Yes, that will do very nicely. Sleep well, handsome._

—isn't.

*

“Haoti Ewhoza,” someone says softly by his ear, and he has an ear again, and hands and a mouth and a self.

And eyes, so he opens them. He's in a room he doesn't recognize, and Valira Wayfinder is sitting beside his bed, smiling. She looks changed from the last time he saw her, wearing a soft tunic instead of her ever-present armor, smudged across her face with dirt, and she looks lighter overall, eyes sparkling and face rounder than it was before, like she's no longer on travel rations, like she's had nothing but good news.

“Take a moment,” she says, and leans back. He recognizes the staff she used to save the mermaid as she leans it against a nearby wall. “Welcome to Fairpoint Hold. It's been most of a year. I'm sorry. Seath's been dead for a season, but Solomon said you might not want to come back.”

“Seath is dead?” he asks, and his head feels muzzy and slow and strangely empty, silent where he's used to noise. “Lloth?”

“Not coming back to mortal form any time soon.” There's smugness in that, and well-deserved.

He expects a response, and it's only then that he realizes the strange silence is that the succubus is gone, his soul, as far as he knows, intact. “The succubus.”

“Some young friends of ours killed her not long ago. We've been discussing whether to bring you back or not since. Solomon was sure you'd want to rest, but I remember, when we talked about Arfil—you said your life was a poor one, but you will wanted to live it. Maybe now you can live a better one.”

“Did Arfil live, without me there to replace him?”

“Yes.” Her smile is too bright, and it finally makes Haoti prop himself on his elbows (he has elbows) and then try sitting upright on the bed. “Paladine is back on his own plane now, and Arfil is learning how to be alone with himself. Like I still am. And like you'll have to.”

“That's one lesson I'll be glad to learn.” The window in the room's corner is thrown open—as it would be. It's hard to imagine Valira living in stone walls. “Your friends?”

“They're here, and gone again, and then here again. More here than not still, for the most part.”

“It might be an awkward welcome.”

“Maybe.” She shrugs. “But there's plenty—”

“You've had more than enough time alone in there, I can hear you two talking,” Kithri shouts through the door. “None of that, now, he could at least say hello to the rest of us first!”

Haoti finds himself laughing, and he doesn't know how long it's been since he did so, but he feels cleansed, like he's starting life anew in truth. Valira grins in response and gets up to let her friends again, but before she opens the door, she whispers something and a moment later she's tossing a berry in his direction just before the door swings open.

Haoti catches the berry (he has hands) and lifts it to his lips, and lets the warmth in his belly make him smile as Valira's friends come in to meet him again.


End file.
